“Outlaw?”
Not in the mood to talk, Christopher scowled at Val. “What?”
“You as haunted by that fucking Sharper and Logan video as me? What I saw, what those two fuckheads said, was some fucked-up shit.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, Christopher scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded. “I ain’t even knowin’ where to fuckin’ start, Val,” he admitted. “It’s so fuckin’ much to unpack.”
“From the sound of it, though, Big Joe returned everything to the status quo,” Mortician offered. “Meggie really not in danger.”
“I can’t fucking believe I’m about to say this,” Stretch pushed out, dark circles ringing his eyes. “But a peace agreement might not be such a bad thing.”
“Only under certain conditions,” Diesel said.
Johnnie stalked back to the table and sat down as if he was welcomed. Christopher glared at him.
“How you feel about the video, Johnnie?” Val asked, apparently determined to push this shit.
“Let’s not talk about that,” Johnnie said stiffly.
“Why? Cuz Logan was in that fuckin’ video? Fuck what the fuck we saw. What about what those motherfuckers said?”
“Am I interrupting?” Celia asked, somehow walking to the table and stopping behind Diesel without anyone noticing her.
“Bash fucked up?” Christopher snapped, in a foul fucking mood.
Celia blinked. “N-no. Not as far as I know.”
“Then you ain’t got to keep bringin’ your motherfuckin’ ass here, campaignin’ for his goddamn life. I ain’t fuckin’ Johnnie, needin’ directions branded into my goddamn brain.”
“Oh, I like that!” Johnnie said in his whiny fucking voice. “Remind me of the video and then twist the knife deeper by insulting my intelligence.”
“Can’t fuckin’ insult what the fuck you ain’t got.” Christopher glowered at Celia. “What the fuck you wantnow?”
She hesitated. “I-I thought you said you’d never had a big sister?”
“I got onenow.You. But you still Bash’slil’ sister. Ain’t no fuckin’ reason for you to come here again.”
Studying him a moment, she nodded and then opened her big ass purse. Before she pulled outwhatever, Christopher jumped up and snatched his .9mm, ready to shoot the fuck out of her. Although they didn’t pull, every brother, except Johnnie, got to their feet, too. He was too fucking busy deciding whether he’d let his tears fall. Fucking fuckhead. “Hands the fuck up, Celia.”
Her eyes widened and horror washed over her face, though she complied. “I-I don’t have a gun. It’s just a bottle of tequila. Your favorite brand.”
“Cuz of Shine, right?” Christopher asked. “Or Johnnie?”
Sniffling, Johnnie glanced up. “It wasn’t me.”
“CJ, come search Celia’s purse,” Christopher ordered.
“I can do it, Uncle Christopher,” Diesel offered.
“I know, boy, but I wantCJto do it.”
For a moment, CJ didn’t move. He searched Christopher’s face, then looked at Celia. He was still angry over his ma. Still upset that she was gone. Still wrestling with his own demons. Resentment carved into CJ’s features and he opened his mouth, either to outright deny Christopher’s order or to remind him that he'd said he needed to pull back from the club.
And he would. However, if there was any hope for CJ’s future in the club, he needed to passthistest. He needed to show he could put aside family issues for club business.
His boy’s putrid look amused Christopher, and he smirked at his son, which only pissed off CJ a little more.
“Ima count to fuckin’ three, CJ.”
